


Bitter Sweet

by evilxbooyaka



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Historical, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilxbooyaka/pseuds/evilxbooyaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was left broken and he did the best he could to save her. Maybe that is why it hurts so much to be left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

**Bitter Sweet**

**Chapter 1**

**Pairing: PruHun**

**Warning: Please note that there is a mention of rape but no scenes of rape.**

A/N: This chapter is in Prussia's PVO.

* * *

I awoke to the sounds of struggle; a grunt, an evil chuckle and then silence. Quietly, I move from the bed to the door and peek. The guards are laughing over something or someone. A burly guard begins to speak in a thick accent that even I have a hard time deciphering what few Russian phrases I know; I begin to glare as I realize are talking about a girl, a stupid girl. The girls' door slams shut and I silently shut mine, waiting for the sound of heavy boots to disappear. Leaning on the door, I take a deep breath and crack it open again; no one was there and I exhale.

"Fuck!" I quickly cover my loud mouth and look around, fear creeping up my spine; no one was coming, I am safe for the time being. My fingers grasp the flower, moving the soft petals against my skin as I inspect it; dread fills my stomach and my heart begins to ache. She was here, she isn't safe anymore.

I door knob is cool as I grasp it firmly, I don't know what waits for me inside and I swallow hard. I know what  **HE**  is capable of and it is even worse if you fought back, let alone trying to rebel against him. My hand begins to tremble slightly as I open the door; mentally preparing myself for whatever brutal condition she is in.

It is worse than I could imagine and I have to look away from her, trying not to gag. How long has it been since her bandages were changed at and did they even dress the new wounds? These questions are superfluous, I know the answer already.

The door clicks shut behind me and I numbly make my way over to her broken body. I am hoping it isn't as horrid as it looks. Assessing the damage done, I begin to search for something to clean her off with and dress her wounds.

I know he keeps some medical supplies in the bathroom but I am going to need to be extra careful this time; she needs me and I don't want to disappoint her again.

The hallway is eerily silent and I wonder where all his guards are, you usually could hear them walking the halls, making sure no one was stepping out of line. Flicking on the bathroom light, I quickly look for what I need to help her. I consider grabbing a bowl that is on the counter and filling it with water. Is it worth the risk of being caught? Nein, I need it to help her and I am going to at any cost. I stuff the bandages in my pants, fill the bowl with water, and secure it the best I can in my trembling hands. Looking around the hallway I begin the short walk back to her room hoping I am not leaving a trail of water to follow.

Maybe I am jumpy, maybe it's because I knew that her life depends on me but whatever the reason is; I have never felt more terrified in my life. Hearing someone in the hall, I hide in the first room, holding my breath and hoping I won't be caught. They continue on and I exhale before going back to her room. Even now I find it hard to look at her. Setting the bowl down on the end table I pull out some sheets from the drawer and began ripping them into pieces; I am not going to risk getting another clean bowl of water so a clean cloth every time will have to do. Her hair was still as soft as I remember as I move it gently away from her face and begin tending to the gash on her fore head. It's pretty deep and as I stitch it up, I give a little thanks to the officer who taught me how to stitch a wound properly. I repeat the steps as I clean down her shoulder and arm; most of them superficial wounds that need no stitching. I won't lie; I hesitate when it comes to taking off the tattered remains of her shirt. I mean, I have seen her naked before but this is different, I am afraid of the wounds I would find. My hands tremble as I took off what was left of her shirt. Letting out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding I am pleased to see that there aren't any deep wounds. That was going to make this much easier. Dipping a new rag into the water, I start washing her chest avoiding staring at her. It is indecent to leer at her when she was unconscious and I can feel my cheeks starting to burn. It's times like this when I feel like an utter fool. As soon I am done with her chest, I cover her and grab a new rag to wash her stomach.

Swallowing hard, I know what I have to do next and I try to convince myself that it is nothing. Taking my time, I start with her legs and bandage any wounds that I find before even glancing at that area. I had to clean it; I suspect that she has been raped (because let's face it, Erzsebét wouldn't have consensual sex with the brute). There are fingertip bruises on her hips and her neck was also forming a nasty bruise. He has done some terrible things to her, things that I know she won't be able to forgive, nor I. Grabbing a rag, I slowly dip it in the water and look away, this is way to awkward. She groans and I tense up; if she wakes up with my hand in her, well, she won't be too pleased. I finish as quickly as I can, making the horrible mistake of glancing down at the rag; blood.

I glance up at her; she was far away in some distant dream, a soft smile gracing her face. I smile a little to myself as I pull a blanket over her. At least she has some respite from this. At least her dreams aren't nightmares, at least not yet. The rags are in a pile on the ground, I consider picking them up and putting somewhere else put a small tug on my sleeve stops me. Her slender fingers make their way down the fabric, weaving their way through mine, and under her breath I hear her mumble, "Don't leave."

She sounds so weak, defenseless and I can't leave her; not that I was going to. Leaning over I kiss her forehead as I whisper, "I ain't leaving ya, Erzsi." My red eyes meet her green and I smile a little down at her. I could see how surprising it was to find out it who it was but then those beautiful eyes soften as she squeezes my hand. Running my fingers over her cheek, I kiss her forehead again, lying next to her I pull her into a gentle hug as she starts to weep into my shoulder. I feel her whole body shake as she sobs. After everything she has been through, after everything we have been through I still can't find the right words to comfort her. What I want to say is inappropriate for the time but I still can't stop the words that start tumbling from my lips. "Erzsi, I love you. I have for quite a while and I know you have been through some terrible things lately but you are strong. I believe in you." She stiffens while I confess to her but she doesn't immediately push me away instead she snuggles closer, her sobs slowly becoming sniffles until her breathing slows as she is lured back into dream land again. I hold her close knowing this was the only time I can do so; she is hurt in more ways than I can ever hope to help heal but this was a start, wasn't it? I hope this can be a new start for the both of us.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
**Bitter Sweet**   
**Chapter 2**   


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**A/N: This chapter is from Hungary's POV**

* * *

I awaken pressed against a man's chest; my arms wrapped around his neck as if I was seeking comfort from him. His hands resting on my back and it took me a moment to realize that I was cuddling with a man who had killed my people, who had made everything I fought for seem worthless, and who had made me feel like I was nothing. I feel the bile rising in my throat at the disgust I feel at seeking comfort in his arms. What disgusts me more was how safe I felt in his arms; like nothing could harm me even though he already had.

He shifts a little and whispers my name, causing my stomach to turn over again.  _Isten,_ I have to get out of here. Out of his arms and out of the Soviet Union. I quickly evaluate how to get his arms off of me; with his shifting he had left enough room for me to get my leg up, enough to give him a good hard kick to the stomach. The man grunts in pain and I deliver another kick in hopes that he would fall off the bed that would give me just enough time to find a weapon and defend myself from what other horrors he may inflict.

He grunts again and to my dismay does not fall off the bed. I am determined to get him away from me so I administer another kick causing him to finally fall off the bed. My small victory was cut short, in my haste to get him off the bed I forget that his arms are still around me. I let out a small yelp as I fall with him. A sickening crack echoes through the room as his head collides with the end table. Landing on his stomach, my eyes dart around the room searching for anything to use as a weapon.

As he groans, I panic finding that I could not reach anything from where I sat. Well, if I could not find a weapon I would just make do with what I have. Leaning forward, I found his neck, wrapping my hands around his neck I start to squeeze tightly. My body was starting to protest all the movement, I let out a small hiss of pain as he writhes underneath me, his hands trying to pry mine off his neck. The Russian may have bested me before but he wasn't going to get away with it, I was going to make him pay if it was the last thing I do.

I glance up wanting to see his face in pain, to get the same sort of sick satisfaction that he had gotten when I was crying. Violet eyes, that is what I was searching for but instead I saw crimson filled with pain and confusion. Immediately, I let go. I stare at the man underneath me as he gasps for air; I couldn't believe who it was. "Gilbert?" I ask my voice a whisper as I lean up to touch his cheek. I wasn't surprised when he slaps my hand away from him.

That's right….he had helped him last night. He had been the one to patch me up and held me as I cried. I turned my head away as I felt the tears start rolling down my cheeks; I had tried to kill my only friend in this god forsaken place. Hearing a chuckle, I glance over at him ignoring the fact that my head was starting to throb something terrible.

"You look really sexy on top," he whispers, his hands sliding up my thighs to settle on my waist, that stupid grin of his plastered on his face. I couldn't control the blush that came over my face at his compliment and he chuckles again, his grin getting wider. With a little difficulty he sat up, leaning against the end table with a groan. My head had started to pound and I was starting to feel a little nauseous so I lay my head on his shoulder breathing in his scent. He wraps his arms around me, kissing my forehead, "Erzsebét…don't cry. We will get out of here, I promise. Whatever it takes, we will get out of here." He held onto me as tightly as he could, forgetting about my wounds. I muffle my scream with his shoulder; he immediately lets go murmuring apologies to me. He nuzzles my cheek, "Hey, this can't be comfortable and I can cuddle you just as well on the bed." I barely could lift my head, I wanted to say something to tell him how grateful I was to have him there but all I could manage to do was squeak in pain as he shifts again. Moving me off his lap, he stands and scoops me up, setting me on the bed with another kiss to my forehead. A little bit of the pressure is relieved from my head when I lay down; I just wish it would go away.

I found it odd that Gilbert didn't get into bed right away; I couldn't see through the dark just what he was doing. The only noise I could hear was the rustle of clothing and for a brief moment I thought he was undressing. I let out a sigh of relief when he comes back with a shirt and some sleep pants for me. Blushing, he rubs the back of his head and asks, "Do you need help or…"

I didn't think it was possible for him to blush more but his cheeks turn even redder as he looks at me sheepishly. I shake my head and he quickly turns around to give me some privacy. I know that he has already seen me naked tonight, hell, he has seen me naked more times than I could count. All those drunken nights we had after my divorce were some of the best nights of my life even when I woke up hung over and next to him.

Quickly, I sit up pulling on the shirt and wincing in pain as I move around on the bed; I regret attacking him, my body in so much more pain and I just want it to stop. Leaning over, I touch his shoulder to signal that he can turn back around. With a curious gaze, he looks at me and smiles; not one of his usual cocky smiles but a genuine smile. It makes me heart skip a beat; he leans over and kisses my forehead for what seems to be the fifth time tonight. "Erzsi, do you need anything right now?" He asks as I lay myself back down and stare up at him, a small smile gracing my own lips.

"I just need to know if you are alright from hitting your head. I didn't know it was you," I whisper, as he lies down next to me with a chuckle.

"It was no worse than your accursed frying pan. I am afraid I will make it through the night," he jokes, brushing some hair from my face. His hand lingers a bit on my cheek and I notice that he is actually deep in thought about something.

"Gilbert, please tell me you aren't plotting revenge," I say, reaching up and taking his hand, lacing my finger through his with a pleading look. He didn't need to get hurt also, not over me.

He laughs nervously, looking away and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "Erzsi, you know how I am, especially about you. I can't ignore the fact that you were hurt and by that brute no less. I don't have much going for me except you and my bruder. I don't want to see you hurt again even if it means that I might get hurt."

I sigh and bring his hand up to my lips and press a gentle kiss to it. I don't want him to fight for me; I don't want anyone to fight for me. In fact, I am tired of all the fighting. Losing two world wars really put a new perspective and for once, I just want to live peacefully. Although, I know it's not in my nature to do so. I meet his eyes and whisper, "Gilbert, it is not worth risking your life just to avenge me. If he killed you, your brother would be devastated…..not to mention how heartbroken I would be. Look, maybe this is the chance we have been waiting for. To be together like when we were teenagers, no one can tell us we can't be now. I won't have to marry and you, you are now free to do as you wish."

"Ja, if you consider freedom a cage and your captor is a psychotic Russian," He sounds bitterly defeated, as if my words were the ones imprisoning him instead of the Soviet. He looks over at her what she said finally clicking, "Do you mean that, Erzsi?" I notice a bit of desperation in his voice and his garnet eyes fill with a little hope as I slowly nod my head.

A noise startles us both; it takes a minute for us to realize that the door knob is jiggling as someone tries to get in. The smooth sound of Russian comes through the door as Gilbert holds me protectively but I know if he is caught with me, his punishment will be more severe. I push him away as I fiercely whisper, "You can't be caught with me, and you need to hide. He will punish you if he finds you here and I doubt it will be pretty. Go!" I urge him pushing him away again when he tries to wrap his arms back around me. He looks at me a little angry as he whispers back, "You are in no condition to go against him yourself. I don't care about the punishment, stop being so stubborn and let me help you!"

Pushing him away again, I sit up looking at the door as the jiggling stops. I want to believe that maybe he has gone away but I know, he will be back and that thought terrifies me. Returning my gaze back to the Prussian I shake my head, "I am not being stubborn, Gilbert! He could kill you! Please, just go hide in the closet." I say begging him with my eyes and gently nudge him to go. With everything that has been happening, I wasn't sure how fast I would heal and he may not at all. A sigh escapes his lip as he sits up with a shake of his head, "If anything happens I will be here to help. I won't let him touch you again, I promise." Gilbert whispers as he leans up and kisses my forehead.

The doorknob begins to turn and Gilbert leaps off the bed, silently sliding into the closet as Ivan Braginsky steps into my room. I swallow hard and try not to let the fear show, like I had before. I watch as moves toward the bed, a small smirk playing on his lips as if he knows something that I don't. It sends a shiver down my spine as I meet his gaze with a hard glare summoning the last remaining bits of courage I have.

I notice another person slip in the room and realize that it is Belarus; she is always with her brother so it doesn't surprise me that she is also here. They both stare at me; Natalia is disinterested but Ivan stares at me like I am prey and I find it hard to meet his gaze any longer.

"I see someone has been in here to tend to your wounds," Ivan says softly, clicking his tongue with displeasure as he moves toward me. Moving as far back on the bed as I possibly can, I manage a soft, "Da," in response. He chuckles darkly, "And who am I punishing for doing such a thing? Perhaps it is the missing Prussian."

I shake my head at his mention of Gilbert, "Nyet, it was your sister, Sophie. She didn't think I would survive otherwise." It was a dangerous lie to tell but I also knew that Ukraine had a very compassionate heart and it wasn't unlike her to help the people Ivan punishes.

Another dark chuckle escapes from his lips, "I will have to have a talk with my dear sister. It is not acceptable for her to be helping out people who decide to go against me." Natalia starts to look around the room apparently bored with the conversation or perhaps she was looking for evidence that is was her sister. Whatever she is doing, I don't have the time to be distracted; while she could be dangerous, the man standing before me was downright evil.

With a slight nod of his head, Natalia steps forward quickly kneeling on the bed, grabbing my hair, and twisting it so I couldn't move my head; hissing in pain, I glare at the woman but say nothing knowing that if Gilbert hears me he would do something stupid. I feel a slight pressure on my neck as a cold blade is pressed into it.

Staring up at the Russian, I snarl at him which only makes him chuckle more. "Defiant to the end, aren't you Erzsebét?" He leans down, the vodka on his breath making me cringe. "What will it take to break you, hmmm? I crushed your revolution, yet you still think that you can win against me. I guess I will have to make an example out of you."

My eyes go wide making him laugh a little more as he takes my hair from Natalia and throws me to the ground. I yelp but that quickly turns into a groan of pain as my broken body hits the floor; turning my head, I look at the closet and hope that Gilbert won't come out to help. I am lifted off the floor a little bit by my hair and he looks over at the closet with a smirk. Natalia starts to move toward the closet but Ivan shakes his head a little, a sign to wait until he comes out by himself.

"Maybe I will start by taking you again; you can make those cute little whimpers and beg me to stop again. Won't that be fun?" Ivan asks me, his voice filled with glee as he lifts me up, tossing me on the bed. Scrambling backwards, I wince in pain as my back hits the wall, I wasn't about to let him have me again. So, as he comes toward me I slam my foot into his face, a sickening crunch is heard as he immediately stops his advances and clutches his nose swearing at me in Russian.

With him being distracted I try and move off the bed as swiftly as possible but the pain was becoming unbearable with each move I make. An arm wraps around my waist helping me move from the bed and out into the hallway, "Come one, Erzsi. I know it's painful but you gotta move." Gilbert urges me on as I stumble and he lets out a string of curses. In one smooth motion he lifts me up and beginning to run down the hall out and hopefully towards our freedom.

With a grunt, he lands on his knees and I look over at his shoulder to see Natalia standing there, she must have thrown a knife at him. Glancing back at his face contorted with pain and whisper, "Leave me here, Gilbert. Go back to your brother. If you don't have me you can make it out." He shakes his head as he tries to get back to his feet, he manages to take a few steps only to have soldiers step in front of us.

We were so fucked at this point and we both knew it. "I'm sorry, Böszi. I tried," Gilbert's voice is full of sadness as he leans me up against the wall and rushes the guards. It is amazing how well he can still fight with how malnourished he is. In the light I can see just how much weight he has lost since being here, it was a bit disgusting to look at.

One of the soldiers grabs him, pinning him against the wall as their commander makes his way toward us. Ivan only offers me a glance as he walks toward Gilbert. A cold hand grasps my wrist harshly pulling me along after her brother.

His cold voice sounds more menacing as he addresses Gilbert, "There you are, Rabbit. I was wondering where you had wandered off to. You know you aren't allowed to leave or have contact with anyone." A loud smack echoes through the hallway and Gilbert grunts a little as his cheek turns a brilliant red, "You know what the punishment is Rabbit for leaving your room. Was she worth it?" Gilbert smirks and spits on the Russian in defiance, he doesn't care at this point, and he is already going to be punished.

Ivan wipes the spit off his face and moves his head telling the soldiers to take him away before turning back toward me. The way he is smiling makes me realize that we really are both at his mercy; no one is going to help us. His hand wraps around my throat as he starts to smile, "My dear Erzsebét, it seems you are my Rabbit's weakness. How shall I exploit that?" He muses and releases me as I try to feel my lungs with air. Before I get a couple deep breaths in, he says, "Natalia, take her to the room. Make sure you gather the others and that Rabbit has the best seat in the house." The Belorussian bows her head and tugs me down the hall toward my fate. For the first time since the beginning of the war, I pray to God hoping that he would protect not only me but also Gilbert.


	3. Chapter 3

  
**Bitter Sweet  
** **Chapter 3**   


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

**A/N: Prussia's POV**

* * *

The smell of the room is starting to overpower me; I stumble and fall to my knees with my head hung down trying to keep the bile from rising. Another sickening crack, a thud, and then silence greets me ears. That is never a good sign. I'm afraid to look up; I don't want to know what horrors will greet me if I do. Heavy footsteps echo somewhere out of my consciousness; I'm still trying to forget her screams, her cries for help, and the look of betrayal that crossed her face the moment she realized help wasn't coming. It's not that I didn't want to, hell; I would have done anything to stop what he was doing to her. But Ivan's threats about West and what he would do stopped me. I have already lost so much and she is strong; Erszébet still has her nationhood. She won't die no matter what he does to her. I only hope she will be able to forgive me.

My body begins to tremble and I can't discern whether it's from fear or anger. I shouldn't have thought that; no matter what he does to me or West, I have to help her. Tilting my head up a bit, I take in the other witnesses. Feliks's harsh stare catches me off guard; Erzsi never called his name for help, never even looked at him. Despite the tears falling from his eyes his hatred is present; he could kill me right now. Hate is something I am used too, but now I wonder if he will help me get her out. As I continue my survey, I make sure to keep my eyes above where her body lies; I am not ready to face that, just yet.

The Ukrainian woman is standing next to Feliks, trembling although no tears fall for Erzsi. I study her realizing she must see this a lot and that she has learned to tune out the brutality. Even being Ivan's sister, I know she will help me if I ask. After all, she has bandaged me up before against her brother's wishes. I can't see Natalia or the Baltics without turning my head and calling attention to myself. Natalia was the one I had to worry about besides the Russian himself, the fact that I can't see her makes me a little more frightened with what I am about to do.

The Russians hand grips my hair tightly causing me to blink back the tears as he pushes my head down to look at her broken body. The bile starts to rise in my throat again as I take in the horrific scene. My heart stops as I realize that she's not breathing. Nein, Erzsi wasn't dead. She can't be, she's too strong, to damn stubborn to die!

The mocking tone of his voice brings me back to the moment, "Scared, Prussia?" My lips curl as I snarl at him. My response only makes him giggle as a child-like grin spreads across his face.

"Fuck you, you Russian piece of shit," A gravelly growl escapes my throat; it hurts a little from the months of misuse. I hardly think whispering counts as use. Audible gasps and murmurs are the only response from my captive audience. Ivan laughs again, his hand moves away, and I take that as my moment to initiate my plan.

Having loosened the rope that binds my wrist I leap into action as soon as they slide off my hands. Before anyone can react, I draw my arm back with as much force as I can punch Ivan in his face, a sickening crack resounds from the impact. For a moment I fear that my hand made that sound, I quickly flex my fingers and give him a small glance. A mixture of shock and anger crosses his features as the crimson liquid gushes from his nose before he can staunch the flow. Heh, I didn't think it had healed that quickly from Erzsi's attack last night.

Natalia rushes toward her beloved brother as I make my way to their sister. With a pleading look at the Ukrainian I don't know how to ask her to help me. Tongue-tied all I manage is a meek, "Please?" and a short glance to her body. Sophie nods her head with a small smile as she hurries toward Erzsi. I turn my attention to the Polish man by her side and think about what to say to him. What could I possibly say to him? "Look, I know that you aren't my biggest fan but can you help Sophie? Not for me but for Erzsébet, she's your best friend, Feliks." Playing the best friend card is a risky when it's coming from me but I hope that it's just enough to push him into actually doing something despite his hatred for me.

He stares at me for what seems like an eternity before he just nods and runs to help her. I sigh heavily as I survey the chaos: Natalia is still tending to Ivan's broken nose, the Baltics have disappeared and Sophie is gone with her. She is safe and that is all that matters right now.

Suddenly, a growling noise that rattles my nerves calls my attention to the Belorussian making her way towards me. Before I can stop myself I start hurling insults at her, "So the she-beast from hell wants to play? Well come on, babe!" A smirk comes across my features; I don't feel as cocky as I look. But I have to keep up the ruse so they have enough time to at least bandage her up.

We begin to circle each other neither giving any inclination to who was going strike first. Natalia rushes at me and in my haste to get mortally wounded by the she-beast, I turn and the next thing I see is her standing over me with a feral grin. As a sticky substance coats my arm and starts seeping through my shirt as I silently curse myself for forgetting the blood covering the floor. Her blood. Anger rises in me at everything that has happened the last few years, it wasn't right and I wasn't going to let it going to let it continue.

A feral growl escapes my lips as I sweep Natalia's feet out from under her. Her yelp gives me some sort of sick satisfaction as she tumbles to the ground with a groan. She rolls to face me and my moment of satisfaction is cut short as she growls and pounces wrapping her slender fingers around my neck. Foolish thinking that a knock to the ground would put the she-devil out of commission. It's funny how I now find myself in the same position as last night. I mean, what are the odds that two beautiful women would strangle me in less than twenty-four hours?

Her hair cascades around us obscuring my vision of the Russian and for the first time I really fear what might happen to me for helping her. She leans closer and wait…are her hands loosening? This development was rather concerning considering how loyal she was to her brother. Her voice is low as she begins to speak, "I am trying to keep you two alive….just listen to me…" Her voice trails off as she listens for something. Her brow creases as she frowns a little, "Pretend you are unconscious once I leave….I will convince my brother not to be bothered with you…..for now. Toris will retrieve you…..that is all I can do."

All I can do is nod slightly at this strange development until her hands are squeezing my neck again and I feel panic until I realize that in order for us to fool her brother there needs to be some marks. I gasp and pretend to be unconscious. Maybe Natalia isn't such a she-devil after all. Natalia removes herself from me and I make sure to slow my breathing to make sure my chest doesn't give me away. She talks quickly and quietly in Russia to her brother and I hope she isn't lying to me.

Even after the click of the door shutting I can't help but to feel wary about this whole plan. If she double-crossed me there would be no stopping the Russian will do to me from my actions. Trying to remain calm becomes a chore as I wait for the Lithuanian to come fetch me. He's probably taking his sweet time because it's me and I'm pretty sure he still dislikes me for past transgressions. The need to move starts to enter my mind when her blood begins to congeal on my arm. It disgusts me to lie here in a pool of blood that's not my own. I mean, I have had my fair share of lying in my own blood but lying in someone else's especially Erzsébet was making me sick to my stomach. Plus it's extremely hard to get dried blood out of clothes and this one of my favorite shirts.

The door opens and I began to breathe slowly once more in case it was an unfriendly. Feet shuffle around me and a boot nudges my side as the person sighs. "Come on, Gilbert. Natalia said you were just faking it. Get up and I will take you to Miss Héderváry."

A grin spreads across my face as I sit up, "Can I get cleaned up first? I mean, I don't think we need to freak sleeping beauty out by seeing your handsome prince covered in blood first thing." I chuckle a little as I rise to my feet and wait for him to lead the way.

"I am sure just seeing your face will freak her out," Toris quips as he leads me away from the raging Russian and towards, hopefully, a shower. He looks back at me curiously wondering if I am going to get him back for his little retort but I let it slide because I am feeling quite elated over my victory over Ivan.

"So can I get a shower in before or?" My answer was a short shake of his head and quick turn down a hallway. Toris points at a door and says, "I have to go see if Natalia is alright. If she got hurt to help you…." He trails off as he turns on his heel leaving me to the closed door. Taking a deep breath, my shaky hand turns the doorknob and I open the door.

This was worse than last night.

This was not the time to start feeling regrets.

Especially regrets about a certain Hungarian.


	4. Chapter 4

  
**Bitter Sweet  
** **Chapter 4**   


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

**A/N: Hungary's POV**

* * *

" _Not yet."_

_A kind motherly voice floats through my mind dredging up old memories long forgotten._

_An old woman grabs a young girl as she tries to run toward something or perhaps it is someone. The old woman wraps her arms protectively around her as she hums a lullaby native to their tribe. The girl calms somewhat in the woman's arms eventually quieting her murmurs of protest. The old woman rubs circles comfortingly on her back as she whispers, "Not yet, child. Not yet."_

Collective gasps bring me back from my childhood memories. I realize my lips are moving I try to focus on the words and discover I am muttering the old lullaby in a dialect long forgotten. Opening my eyes, I blink trying to adjust to the rather harsh light that seems so oppressive that I raise my arm to block it. To my surprise, although considering what I have been through it shouldn't have been, an excruciating pain shoots up my arm, a gasp escapes my lips and then Sophie's face enters my vision.

Oh yeah, Braginski decided I needed to be punished more and to show the others what happens when you disobey. I only wanted freedom but now I am trapped even more.

She clicks her tongue, shakes her head, and turns to speak to someone in a low tone. If I was in my right mind I would be able to comprehend what she was saying but his last blow was to my head. I can only assume that is why everything is still a bit surreal feeling.

There is one thing that stands out in my memories: Prussia.

He didn't even try to help me!

He can lay there murmuring sweet nothings into my ears, lulling me into a sense of security and protection, then he just watches as I get beaten within an inch of my life! He couldn't even catch my gaze! What an asshole!

I really shouldn't have expected anything less; he has never been my knight in shining armor. That belongs to another man and another world, so far from this suffering. He always picks fights and is a constant nuisance. I should have known better than to have trusted him with my well-being.

The eerie silence that descends upon the room is more than I can take, so I muster all my strength and lean up a little despite the shooting pain throughout my whole body. Sophie rushes behind, adding another pillow, and fluffing the others to give my some support. I murmur a thank you because she really shouldn't be risking her life just to make mine a bit more bearable.

I gaze around the room, Feliks and Sophie both avoiding me and I can't figure out why. Has my face been that maimed that it's hard to look at? I turn my eyes toward the door and realize my answer is standing there. I guess he has finally decided to show his face after his cowardice earlier.

Despite his bloody appearance what concerns me more is his crushed demeanor, as if someone has ripped out his heart and stomped on it violently while laughing. Like he has any reason to feel that way, he didn't get his hopes up to have them dashed before the pipes last blow.

It takes me a moment before I realize that there someone is saying something. The noise halts as I tilt my head and then it dawns on me; I have been saying everything out loud. Now the question is: How much has Gilbert heard?

Sophie is the one who breaks the awkward silence with a small gasp as she notices the Prussian's appearance. He does make a rather startling sight to behold as he stands in the doorway blood covering a good portion of his body. She rushes over to him; his cocky grin replaces the downtrodden look as she fusses over his appearance. "You should have seen the other guy, Soph!" His proud exclamation seems forced to me but Sophie's face just breaks into a wide smile and Feliks relaxes a bit. He exchanges pleasantries with the Ukrainian woman explaining that it wasn't his blood; he had just been trying to help clean up by slipping and deciding to lay in the mess to absorb most of it. It would be easier for them to clean up later that way. As he speaks he makes sure to give me a pointed glare as soon as Sophie turns around to check to see if she has extra clothes for him.

With another click of her tongue, she discovers she doesn't have any men's clothes, "I am sorry, Gilbert but I must run to get some clothing. The shower is through that door, I will place some on the counter once I procure them." She ushers him into the bathroom and he makes a point of avoiding my gaze as he saunters past the foot of my bed. Sophie takes her leave only stopping to give Feliks and me a worried look.

I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, settle into the pillows, and hope that I can at least find some comfort in an old friend. Though I doubt I will be given any alcohol, so I settle for talking with Feliks instead. That is when I notice that he has been staring at me intently making me feel like I had done something horrid. Holding up my head as much as I can manage I stare back and snap, "What?" although my snappy tone comes off as snotty more than anything else.

His stare deepens into a frown, and then he sighs heavily as he crosses his arms across his chest. Despite the fact that Sophie just walked out the door, I find myself wishing she would come back. Being along with him was starting to unnerve and piss me off.

"He broke Ivan's nose," Feliks breaks the silence with this piece of information as if I am supposed to care what he did afterwards.

"I broke it the night before with my boot. It wasn't healed all the way," I retort since we are exchanging useless information. It's not the words that bug me; it's his tone, as if he is accusing me of Gilbert's idiotic idea of revenge. It's doesn't sit with me well, at all.

Before another word is uttered, Feliks perches himself on my bedside and gently sweeps some errant strands of hair from my face, "How do you think you ended up here, Lizsa?" The use of my pet name startles me a bit mostly because I thought we were going to end up fighting. "Gilbert's idiotic idea is what got you out of there. And as much as it pains me to say this: you should at least show him some gratitude. I mean, seriously! What were you thinking saying those things out loud?"

I accompany the rolling of my eyes with a short shrug of indifference. She he broke the Russian's nose, big deal. Maybe if he had helped when Ivan was beating me senseless, I would be a little more concerned with what he heroically did afterwards. He was just saving his own hide; a typical thing for Gilbert to do.

The Polish man scoffs, "Erzsi, you know I don't get along with him, I am not telling you this because I want to do him any favors. But, he did plan your escape and then fended off not only Ivan but Natalia. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here now." He fingers the thread bare sheets as he shifts uncomfortably. Talking about Gilbert is never a joyous time with Feliks, his distaste for the man only grows more apparent the longer you talk with him.

I chew on my busted lip, wincing as a flash of pain shoots through it, but before I can say anything Feliks sighs heavily. "Look, you weren't there and if you would have seen how he pleaded with me….the fear in his eyes…that you….that you might actually not recover. That man has nothing short of love for you, Erzsi, and it was evident in his actions today. Honestly, I thought he had lost his mind when I realized he was willing to take not only Ivan but Natalia as well for you. That's got to count for something…."

"Oh please! Stop making this sound like some sickening love story! We aren't Romeo and Juliet, Feliks! Next you will be telling me that he has loved me since we were children!" My sudden outburst startles him causing him to jump a little, mumbling something under his breath before finally regaining his composure.

This cause me to snort in disbelief, "You have got to be kidding me! You actually believe that?" I ask incredulously. I cannot believe that he could actually think that was a possibility. Does he even remember who we are talking about?

His reaction answers my question. In one fluid motion he moves from my side to the chair, mumbling yet again but this time I manage to hear what he is saying. I don't understand how I am the fool in this situation when it is obviously the Polish man to my side. He has done everything but shown me that he cares for me.

The only exception being last night, when he made those promises that he never intended to keep.

I huff crossing my arms the best that I can over my chest, "You might as well leave, I would rather be alone than have you sit here and judge me. Oh, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." As soon as the words leave my mouth I know that I shouldn't have said them. His response isn't what I expect; it throws me for a loop as he stands and says, "As you wish."

The door clicks shut; finally I can have some time to myself. That's when I remember that Gilbert is in the bathroom. I listen very carefully and I start to wonder how long the water hasn't been running. I pray that it just stopped as Feliks left, hoping that he didn't hear me lash out at my friend. I move my head a little so the bathroom door skirts the outside of my vision.

Wait a minute.

Why are the door open and the light switched off? Where the hell is the Prussian?

Turning my head, I ignore the pain that sparks at the base of my neck trying to find him. I don't need him patronizing me as well. A loud thump against the night stand draws my attention to where Feliks was sitting a few minutes ago. He stares at me intently, hands clasped under his chin, and elbows resting on the bed like this is an everyday occurrence for us.

Why is he only wearing a towel?

Is this some sort of sick intimidation technique?

He continues to stare as I continue to ponder just what the hell he is up to. Plus, I find his near nudity to be distracting as he continues to stare like I am some animal in a cage that's interesting to observe. Watching him watch me is unsettling especially when he leans back in the chair; this action draws my eyes to his lower half to make sure the towel didn't slip.

"Like what you see?" My eyes snap up to meet his at the cockily said question. I retract my hand back intent on slapping that smug look off of his face. Effortlessly, he catches my hand, gets up, and pushes my body gently back onto the bed.

"Don't. You'll reopen your wounds," Gilbert commands without releasing my wrist. "Don't be irrational, Hungary. You need to heal with the least amount of complications." His tone is cold, almost mechanical as he releases my wrist. I wince slightly, not because of his grip, but the tone of his voice and use of my nation name. Despite how gentle he is being and the concerned look in his eyes, it's evident by how he speaks to me that he is angry.

"You know, I don't need your help, Prussia. I am sure Sophie is quite capable of taking care of me." I hiss out glaring up at him. Now he is nothing but an aggravation to me.

"Oh, I would have left if Sophie had brought me clothes. There's no reason to stay since you would just chase me off like Feliks," He states coolly as he pulls away from me and resumes sitting in the hard plastic cover.

"I don't need you commenting on every little detail of my life! I don't need you to protect me. You know what, Prussia, I don't need you at all," I growl at the offending man wanting nothing more than to wrap my hands around his neck. He's the reason I am even in Russia's grasp right now. If the Germans hadn't handed me over for being a traitor I wouldn't have suffered any of this. My people wouldn't have suffered any of this. I can't bring myself to blame Ludwig, he was young and naïve. But the Prussian man was easily blamed having been a thorn in my side since we were children.

He looks indifferent at my growling and simply shrugs, "I could never be your prince charming, Hungary. Of course, I never figured you would want to be saved by anyone. You made that very clear when we were younger but you changed when you married the ponce." He leans forward, "I can tell you this, Hungary, he doesn't care that you are here. He didn't even give his regards to you when I was thrown in here." A feral look crosses his face, his lip curls up in a sneer as he says, "Your prince charming isn't coming, Hungary."

He is so distracted with giving his little speech that he doesn't notice me grab the empty bowl off the tray next to my bed. I swing as hard as I can, knocking him and the chair backwards. I let out a shrill scream as I feel something split open on my side. It must be a wound from the first attack by that bastard. Breathing hard, I put my hand over the wound; I draw it away slowly already feeling how much blood was on it. I don't even get to look at it, my body convulses as it starts going into shock.

Darkness begins to creep into the edges of vision as I reach out for anything to staunch the blood flow.

"Fuck, Erzsébet!" The Prussian moves rather spryly considering the blow to the head he just received. He looks at me grasping for something to hold over my wound and looks around the room to help. At least, I hope that is what he is doing.

The last thing I see is him ripping off his towel and it suddenly takes me back to all those decades ago when he offered me his crotch cloth and I refused to take. He quickly applies pressure just as I begin to lose consciousness thinking that he finally got to realize his dream of using his crotch cloth on me.

Before the darkness claims I hear him ask, "Was it worth it?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Bitter Sweet**

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

**A/N: Prussia's POV.**

* * *

"Why are you naked!?" Sophie's shrill voice announces her presence. Between her and the Hungarian I am sure that my hearing may never recover. With a quick turn I face the Ukrainian, completely unabashed about my nakedness to answer her question, "Well, I like to air dry, you know. My boys sure appreciate it." I accompany that with a lewd gesture towards my crotch all with a smirk, hopefully this will distract her long enough for me to get safely behind the bathroom door. Maybe even with some clothes.

Sophie's blush is quite lovely; the way it spreads across her cheeks without becoming splotchy or looking like a bad sunburn. She averts her eyes shoving the clothes into my chest as she mumbles something about indecency. My laughter snaps her attention back to my face, her brow furrows with concern as she notices the forming bruise on my cheek.

Before she can question it, I brush away her curious hand, "Lover's quarrel." Slowly, I back into the bathroom, partly because I don't want to answer any more questions about the bruise or any other marks upon my person and I don't want to be out there when she discovers the Hungarian's condition. Before I close the door, I ask, "Will you please take care of her, Sophie?" I can only assume she is staring at me curiously because I refuse to meet her gaze, she would find the truth out soon any way.

For the first time in my life I feel ashamed about my actions. I claim to love the woman lying upon the bed but my actions before and especially recently, show otherwise. My thoughts consume me as I go through the motions of shutting the door and dressing myself. I hear Sophie's gasp just barely through the door and sink even further into my self-loathing state that only grows with the examination of the bruise on my face. Considering the state she is in I am quite surprised that she could pack such a punch. I move my jaw back and forth feeling if she caused anything to become dislocated. It seems lady luck is on my side and it's just going to be a nasty bruise,  _yay_.

With reluctance and a heavy sigh I open the door to assess how furious Sophie is. It's quite obvious who provoked Hungary, although a case could be made that Feliks irritated her first. But that would hardly hold up in a court where Sophie is the judge and jury, considering I am the one with the love tap on my face and not Feliks.

She works rather diligently on stitching Erszebet's wounds up. I clear my throat before asking, "Need any help?" My voice sounds weird, like I have a giant lump stuck in the back, I find myself clearing my throat once more as I move towards the bed to lend any assistant that she may need only to halt when she answers me.

"You have done enough already, Gilbert. I wasn't too busy today so thank you for the work, I do so appreciate it." Her sarcastic tone coupled with a scathing look cause me to slink back to my corner like a dog with its tail between its legs. "Once I am done I will take care of yours." I acknowledge her with a small nod before picking up the chair and sitting next to the Hungary's bed. My attention focuses on our argument as I start to dissect just what went wrong today. Provoking her was never one of my more intelligent thoughts albeit a fun one. Still, as much as I shouldn't have said what I did, there was no point in her girlish dreams of prince charming coming to save the day.

Especially when she thought I was him.

I would sneer at the thought if it wasn't hers; if anyone else thought I could be their prince charming I would laugh them off because they obviously don't know me. But she does and she still believes that I could give her the fairy tale ending that she deserves. But, I can't be her prince charming; I am not the man she thinks I am. She wouldn't think so highly of me if she knew the things I have seen and have done. No; prince charming, fairy tale endings, and love all belong somewhere away from this Hell we are currently living and with another man.

All I can do is comfort and love her when she allows me too, just like she always has. It won't surprise me that, after all this, when she goes back to Roderich.

That thought alone causes my already loathing mood to further drop into what could be considered depression. I try to think of the simpler times we had together as children and teenagers; the carefree innocence that we once shared before our friendship became much more than just that. Before one of us had to stupidly admit his feelings only to have them dashed by the cruel words that escaped her lips,  _I'm getting married, Gilbert._

But even that didn't stop me from pursuing her before and while she was married; Roderich had his mistresses and Erzsi had me. Sure, there were a few nights of passion, a couple nights of - what she liked to call 'hate-fucking' – but there were many more nights where we just laid together reminiscing of our childhood, as well as, speculating what would have happened if she married another Germanesque man instead. I noted how she would never say me, always a veiled reference, almost like it was the one thing she was afraid of: admitting her love for me.

Perhaps it made her feel weak, the one thing she wouldn't let anyone see. No matter how badly hurt or broken she stood on her two feet and let her enemies know that a reckoning was coming. Her fierce determination to show us all that a woman can be just as ruthless was, hell still is, admirable and, at least to me, damn gorgeous.

I don't remember leaning forward or reaching out to hold her hand as I mused about the fucked up relationship we had. But, it's short lived as the door opens and the ice queen herself makes an appearance. The words she exchanges with her sister seem to trouble Sophie, her brow furrows as she utters, " _Nyet,"_  with a shake of her head, then Sophie glances at me as if there is something she needs to be sorry about. My heart drops; this is probably the last time I will be allowed near her until we gain our freedom from Ivan. I knew my stupid, heroic stunt would be punished, I held out some hope that it would be later rather than sooner. Foolish, I know. But, can you really blame me?

With a reluctant sigh I kiss the back of Erzsi's hand. I linger there not wanting to face the oppressive stillness that had pervaded the room. I knew I was a man marked for death; no amount of repenting would do me any good. There was no benevolent God that would forgive me for the choices I had made, at least, not in this house. Natalia shifted as if to come towards me as I stood, but thought better about doing so. Perhaps my face told everything that she needed to know: I have accepted my fate and would go quietly, there was no point in fighting the inevitable.

Pausing in my measured steps, I look back at Sophie and Erzsebet with the thought that I should leave something for her. Some kind of token so she won't forget about me, but I don't have many personal belongings left that hold sentimental value for me except the iron cross that hangs around my neck. Silently, I slip it off and hand it to Sophie without exchanging words. She's a smart woman, after all.

I may be a condemned man but I refuse to go out without at least my dignity left.

Turning sharply on my heel I meet Natalia at the door letting her take the lead. I have a notion of where I am going but knowing Ivan, he could through a curve ball and have Natalia lead me straight to Hell. Finding my voice isn't as easy as before but I am determined to make some sort of comment about the ghastly bruise that currently adorns her otherwise porcelain face.

All I can muster is, "Did he do that because you were helpful?" Her steps falter a bit; perhaps she wasn't expecting that I would care that she was hurt. The knife to my back was yesterday; all that was left was a dull ache between my shoulder blades. She walks slower, taking her time before answering my question in a whisper, " _Da."_

Nothing surprises me about our warden anymore. If he was willing to hurt his dearest sister for helping us, then I knew that he wouldn't be easy on me. "I'm sorry," I say in the most apologetic tone I can muster that makes her stop dead in her tracks.

"Sorry. You are sorry for what has happened? Beilschmidt, if you were truly sorry would you have tried to play hero?  _Nyet_! Do not try and apology for your actions now, it will not help you…I will not help you. Your bravado has led you to be condemned to isolation by my brother, nothing can save you now." If her words had any substance they would be daggers cutting me down and leaving me feeling useless.

Natalia may be right – nothing can save me, but it's not the first time I have heard that phrase before.


End file.
